Lasting Impressions
by Rebel666
Summary: The moment the Normandy left Earth, Specialist Samantha Traynor was uncertain about serving under Commander Shepard. One thing was certain, from their first meeting to every interaction they encountered, the Commander always left a lasting impression.
1. Chapter 1: Revealing Hiccups

Chapter 1 – Revealing Hiccups

The famed Commander never expected anything but the best. Shelby Shepard was a decorated war hero and survived one catastrophe after another. The scars on her body were merely badges she wore proudly as proof of her victories. Any battle she lived was another chance for her to fight, another chance for her to prove her abilities. Anyone who stood in her way would quickly find themselves with a fist planted firmly in their face. Shepard's forceful approach was notorious… a certain reporter could attest to this.

When the Normandy left Earth in a hurry, it was sheer dumb luck that Specialist Samantha Traynor was one of those aboard. She never served on a vesseland never expected to serve under the famous Commander Shepard. The moment she discovered the situation she was left in, she felt intimidated but knew she would have to pull her weight in order to be accepted. All the information she received about the woman in charge left her picturing Shelby as nothing more than a renegade without a leash. A rough and tumble Marine who will stop at nothing to get what she wanted… that was until she met the Commander.

Stumbling upon Shepard during a conversation with the smart asari aboard, she immediately noticed the striking smile planted firmly on the tall woman. Her short blonde hair was an organized mess that complimented her piercing grey eyes. The uniform was perfectly fitted on the experienced soldier, respectfully paying tribute to her experience. She never expected a woman who so boldly stood for humanities interests to be so elegantly beautiful. Within that instance, she quickly found herself falling for the veteran.

The sudden infatuation left the timid Specialist flustered every time she came into contact with Shelby. Time after time, she would catch herself nervously rambling on and revealing little tidbits. Like an apology about finding EDI's voice attractive mere moments after her introduction and a lengthy discussion about her six thousand credits toothbrush. In the pursuit of redemption, Traynor would spend hours toiling away. She wanted to provide an example of her contribution to the Normandy's team by reporting any disturbances. Yet no matter how often Shepard congratulated the Specialist on a job well done, she couldn't stop imaging herself as nothing more than a bumbling mess.

Even if she could find a way to win over the illustrious Commander Shepard, she didn't know if she would even be interested. No one aboard the Normandy knew much about Shelby's personal life. She was always reserved about going into details about her personal interests… especially when it came to relationships. As flirtatious as she was, there wasn't a single person who succeeded in seducing the sly woman so her preference remained a mystery. The only smidgen of information Traynor was able to pick up on was Shepard's behavior around fellow crewmates of the same gender.

There was a brief change in Shelby's attitude the moment she came into contact with certain individuals. She constantly complimented Ashley on the change of outfits, saying the blues suited her better than her previous pink and white armor, and how relieved she was to see her "with her hair down." She poked fun at Jack's g-rated vocabulary and about stealing her hairstyle when there were no similarities between the two. She also mentioned how one previous crew member had a specific body part that perfectly popped out and made it difficult to avoid staring at. Unfortunately, this was not enough information for the colonist-born technician to elaborate on.

As Samantha was settling into the Normandy's daily routines, she found herself becoming more and more confident around the Commander. Since her abilities were proving to be helpful, Shepard stopped by more often to chat and commemorate her contribution to the team. Every brief moment she experience with their beloved leader left a lasting impression. Their conversations provided a moment of solace, a chance to forget about the turmoil. Any distraction away from the chaos of the war was welcomed warmly by the chipper crewmate.

During their last conversation, Samantha left a subtle hint about her growing feelings. Secretly hoping Shepard would catch onto the displays of affection from her fellow Alliance soldier. Without giving so much as a nibble to bite on, Shelby completely overlooked the notion and continued on like nothing happened. Questioning her approach, she wondered if she should even attempt anything or to simply allow things to follow their course and hope for the best.

While she was lost in her thoughts, she noticed the faint image of the Commander casually enter the CIC from the War Room. She was focusing on the datapad firmly resting in her hands with a concerned look scribble across her face. The last mission paid a toll on the hero and the weight of the war was starting to show signs of defeat.

Trying her hardest to conceal the emotions from the loss of a previous crewmember and a close friend, her eyes revealed her true feelings. They changed different shades based on Shepard's emotions. When she stared at the memorial wall aboard the Normandy, Specialist Traynor notices a faint shimmer of blue hues that made her grey eyes darker. Whenever Shelby stopped by previously, the grey appeared lighter and had a slim glow of a golden tint. The dark pupils staring at the datapad confirmed Shepard's distress.

As the battle worn Commander came closer to the Galaxy Map, Samantha attempted to comfort her, "I hear you were on the ground with the Reaper. He fired up at us a few times. Joker pulled the Normandy through some insane maneuvers to stay out of the line of fire. I was terrified at first, strapped into a safety harness. I can only imagine what it was like having that thing chasing you..."  
Without looking up from the orange hologram, Shelby responded, "Don't worry, Traynor. It was tough but Joker knows better than to let anything happen to my favorite communications officer."  
Trying to cheer Shepard up, she smiled, "Flatter me all you like. I'm still not feeding your fish."  
"I can be very persuasive," she replied, chuckling.

"Is that so?" Samantha pursued with her interest hinted in her tone.

"Yes, although," her deep grey gaze met with Samantha's, "it appears you and Diana Allers seem to be getting fairly close. I always catch you two rambling on over the intercom."

"I, oh… well, I can explain," she stuttered, ashamed.

"I'm listening," Shepard crossed her arms and stared at her sternly, waiting for an explanation.

"I know I really should be focusing on the task at hand. I didn't think discussing little things with Diana would be an issue. I like listening in when she does her broadcastings and discussing topics that would make an interesting report. It also doesn't help that I find her voice attractive, like I do with EDI's and yours. Here I go rambling again… this is becoming a bad habit," she anxiously rubbed her fingertips against her forehead.

Shepard shook her head, smiling, "It's okay, Traynor. I have nothing against you mingling with the crew. In fact, I encourage it."

Relieved, the Specialist sighed heavily, "I'm sorry, I must have come across like a child trying to cover up breaking their parent's vase."

"No… I did that on purpose. I like keeping you on your toes," Shelby winked, a light twinkle of gold radiated from her grey eyes. She tenderly placed her free hand on Samantha's shoulder before striding away. The brief embrace of her touch and the mention of her interest in mingling with others vaguely confirmed what the communications officer was feeling all along.

_She does like me…_


	2. Chapter 2: The Call

Chapter 2 – The Call

Samantha Traynor sheepishly peered through the galaxy map at the group chuckling in the bridge, curious about the ruckus. Moments prior she noticed Commander Shepard stumbling upon the witty turian cracking jokes with the Normandy's helmsman. Without needing an invitation, Shelby joined in on their tomfoolery. It wasn't long before the trio had deviously large grins decked across their face as they took turns sharing their humorous banter. The more they carried on, the louder they became. Their unsolicited babbling caused many heads to turn as the crew continued to work in the CIC.

Even though Samantha could barely hear the wisecracks, she loved hearing the Commander laugh. Her cackles rang through the long hallway, overpowering everyone else's chuckling. She was clearly enjoying herself and it warmed Traynor's heart to see her in such high spirits. The war felt like an emotional roller coaster, one that wasn't going to end any time soon. She could only imagine the heartache and pain Shepard was going through. The outcome of this battle weighed heavily upon her shoulders. She was forced into an impossible task and was amazingly succeeding where others would fail.

Yet, some things still fell short… each failed burden stacked atop the last, sinking the blonde-haired Marine deeper into the abyss. One look into her eyes shared the severity of the internal injuries but it never slowed Shepard down. She would continue living each day to its full extent and wouldn't allow any prior downfalls to become her shortcoming. Her charismatic approach to life was growing contagious, spreading quickly throughout the Normandy and encouraging a positive atmosphere. Even when her grey gaze shined with a blue flicker, she would find ways to quell the depression. The strength the Commander displayed was becoming more and more irresistible to the young communications officer.

As she watched her beloved leader leave the bridge, Samantha snapped back to her duties. Hunching over the console, she furiously tapped away in hopes of looking productive. From the corner of her eye she could see the Commander striding towards the elevator, her gleaming smile brightening her path. Right as she passed the corner of the galaxy map, their eyes locked for millisecond. The Specialist quickly brought her attention back to the console, pleading under her breath that their brief exchange would be dismissed.

"Something on your mind, Traynor?" Shelby asked, curiously looking at the jumpy woman.

"No, ma'am."

"Really?" she questioned with one eyebrow up. She closed in on the nervous officer, crossed her arms, and leaned up against the galaxy map's railing, "Because I couldn't help but notice how you were sneaking a glimpse of me a few times… even while I was at the bridge."

Immediately Samantha could feel her face growing warm. Her cheek's blushing appearance confirmed the Commander's suspicions. As she tried to explain her actions, the words that left her lips were nothing more than a series of vowels.

Shepard held up her hand and reassured, "Its okay. I know Garrus and Joker can appear intimidating since they've served under me in the past but you don't need to feel pressured around any of us. You are free to walk up to any of us at anytime. There's no need to stand in the distance. Feel free to interrupt me if there is something important. Hell, you are even welcome to join in on our shenanigans. As long as you don't mind some verbal slandering… it's all in good fun though, we've always picked on each other."

"That's quite alright, Commander," she sighed, averting her gaze back to her console.

"Then why are you bright red?"

"It's nothing!"

"I know you're hiding something… but what could it be?" her piercing grey eyes glowed at her, trying to read the secret messages racing in Samantha's head, "I know…"

Panic overcame the communications expert, was she becoming too obvious to the Commander?

"It all makes sense now," Shepard leaned back against the railing, "You can't crack a joke, that's why you stood there watching…"

"That's not it at all!"

"Don't worry, Traynor, not everyone can roll with the punches."

"I can tell jokes too!"

"Alright then, tell me one."

Her mind went blank. She recalled all the jokes she used to overhear in the lab, some concerning her commanding officer. Yet, as soon as the pressure was on her, she couldn't remember any of them.

"Come on, Traynor, take a stab at me. There are dozens of jokes out there that are about me, pick one."

"I," she rubbed the back of her neck anxiously, "I cannot think of one."

"Would you look at that, I left the Oxford-girl stumped," the blonde-haired soldier grinned from her victory, "So enlighten me, what did your fancy school teach you? Certainly there was an extracurricular activity you enjoyed embarking on."

"There is one…" Samantha looked at the glowing map in front of her console, "Tell me what you see when you look at the Galaxy Map."

Shelby shrugged, "Stars and planets, moons and suns… I guess."

"Sure, if you want to be literal," the Specialist smiled, "But do you know how many strategy games are built from that interface?"

"So that's what you do all day!" Shepard joked, dismissing all of Traynor's official duties. "Then I am to guess that you enjoy playing strategy games?"  
"A few," she confessed, "Most are too flashy, though. I prefer chess. I have a set made from rose quartz and hematite back home. I like the feel of something solid in my hands."

"I get the feeling that this is more than just a hobby…"  
"It is. After last year's tournament, I was a 2085 on the Grissom Scale. Not an international level, but respectable."  
"That's impressive."  
"I would've placed higher if I hadn't lost my knights. Every game I overextended them, got too flashy, and then watched them fall."

"Well, now that I know your weakness, we may have to try a game."

"I would enjoy that. It'd be more fun than playing EDI. EDI doesn't sweat."  
Shepard cocked her head, puzzled, "You sweat playing chess?"  
"Depends on how much fun we're having."  
"Hmmm… I'll keep that in mind, Samantha," the Commander gave a wink before proceeding towards the elevator. Noticing how the statement left the chess-enthusiast with a surprised expression.

_She said my name…_

As she was getting back to her duties, the Specialist couldn't overcome the sense of hearing the Commander say her first name. She was always addressed by her title or last name, never by her first. To hear Shelby's soothing voice say her name… felt personal. She was becoming more than just another pretty face aboard the Normandy. Every time she replayed that moment within her memories, she couldn't resist smiling.

_She called me by my first name…_

The sensation continued to sink in. This was her treasured memory… nothing could hinder it. Everything seemed to fade away, including the flashing light on her console. The flashing light… the flashing light from the intercom! Traynor frantically pushed the button she accidentally ignored, "Yes?"

"Samantha," Shepard's voice rang through the intercom, "If you're not doing anything at the moment, I've got a few hours free. Would you like to come up?"

"Yes," she nervously squeaked, trying not to appear overeager, "I'll be right there."


	3. Chapter 3: Warm Water

Chapter 3 – Warm Water

"Your cabin is gorgeous," Samantha gawked as she entered the Commander's quarters, "I've seen apartments smaller than this."

Shelby Shepard strode towards her welcomed visitor and curiously remarked, "You've been in here before."

"I know but it feels more… homey now. Maybe it's the fish or your model ships that add a special touch," she remarked, striding over to Shepard's desk and eying her prized figurines. "You have so many of them. They must have cost you a fortune."

"Money really isn't an issue when it comes to getting what I want."

Traynor took a moment to analyze this new bit of information, "Does that apply to other aspects as well?"

"You can say that," the Commander mentioned, distracted by the dust covering her pristine desk. As she ran her fingertips across the rim of her desk, she grimaced at the amount of dirt she discovered. She casually rubbed her hands together, attempting to dispose of the evidence, and continued, "I admit that I am a very stubborn person and can become somewhat of an unstoppable force. It doesn't really matter where I am, on the battlefield or away on shore leave. If there is something I want, I will go to any lengths to acquire it."

"That sort of determination is a highly attractive quality to have. No wonder you're the best," the Specialist praised, hoping the marine caught her insinuation.

"You flatter me," she gawked, "I get enough of that from everyone else."

"Then how would you like me to treat you?"

"Just be yourself, Samantha. The nervously rambling, blurting out random tidbits of information, and enjoyable to keep on their toes type of person. You don't need to sugar coat things around me, be forward. I am a grown woman after all and can handle whatever you throw my way."

"In that case," the communications officer searched around the room for things to point out, "You could use some flowers in here. Maybe some bright red or yellow poppies… right here in the corner of your desk."

"Consider it done," Shelby confirmed.

Samantha continued searching around the room and noticed the door sliding open to her right, it revealed the immaculate quarters of the Commander's bathroom and a very enticing shower. "Ah, an actual shower. What I would give to borrow your facilities, I would feel like such a princess. The faucets in the women's bathroom are crap, by the way."

"Noted… do you have any other complaints about the crew's accommodations?"

"No, not at this moment," she protested, "Even then, I would feel horribly guilty for reporting every issue aboard the Normandy."

"Don't be. Remember, I don't want you to hold back with me."

"I'll try my best," Traynor shyly admitted, knowing she would still have difficulties in being direct about her feelings, "In any event... I thought you might be in the mood to play."  
"Chess?"

"I bought a board on the Citadel. GUI interface, not nearly as much fun as real pieces… but I hoped you might give me some pointers."

"Me? Aren't you the Miss Impressive 2085 on the Grissom Scale girl? It sounds like you'll be the one giving me pointers," she scoffed.

Astonished at how her superior remembered every little detail of their previous conversation, she anxiously remarked, "I could never do that."

"Either way, I wouldn't need them," her confident tone was borderline cocky, "In fact, I'll give you want you want… I'll make you sweat. I won't make this an easy victory for you."

"Are you sure about that, Commander?"

"Don't let the uniform fool you, I play a mean game of chess," the Commander's poker face made it difficult to determine if she was indeed a skilled player, "Do you doubt me? Am I already making you sweat?"

"Hardly, merely leaving a lasting impression."

"Oh?"

"More incentive for me to win and watch you fall off your high horse."

"Someone's getting spunky!" she growled, "I will take great pleasure in conquering you, Miss Traynor."

"Shall we begin then?" Samantha asked, slowly backing towards the lower part of her quarters with her eyes locked onto the blonde soldier.

"Definitely… although," Shepard leaned against the doorframe to her bathroom and crossed her arms, smugly suggesting, "With how much you were rambling a moment ago, I figured you'd be more interested in a shower first."  
"I didn't realize that was an option."  
"Even with your recent comment about my haughtiness… it's an option."  
Samantha weighed her options carefully, jumping right into a round of chess or taking up Shelby's offer to borrow her shower. The more she assessed the current situation, the more she contemplated how she would incorporate admitting her feelings towards her superior. Finally coming to the conclusion of, "In that case… just give me a moment to grab my things..."

When Samantha returned, she noticed a change in Shepard's apparel. Shelby removed her commander's jacket and was showing off a deep navy sleeveless top that perfectly coordinated with her dress pants. The tight shirt revealed the Commander's hidden curves, making it difficult for the bashful Specialist to look away. Shelby's athletic build and battle scars complemented her personality perfectly. She looked precisely how a seasoned war hero should. Except one particular item stood out, immediately catching Samantha's attention. Poking out from the bottom of her navy dress pants were a pair of bright red socks. She never expected her commanding officer to wear such vibrant colored apparel. It struck her curiosity, causing her to ask, "Red?"

"What? I like the color red," Shepard shrugged, "Are they distracting?"

"Somewhat," Traynor stared at the playful woman, "But it won't stop me from beating you."

"We'll see. First…" she directed her guest towards the pristine bathroom, "I can hear this shower is calling your name.

"You truly do not mind me borrowing your shower?"

"Not at all. Go ahead and make yourself right at home, Samantha. It'll give me some time to work up my strategy," Shelby winked, retreating to the chair closest to the stairway. As she lounged in the confinements of her lower quarters, she leaned back and noticed the door to the bathroom was wide open. Deviously leaning further in her seat, she caught the faint figure of the charming woman basking in the warm water. She was mesmerized by the nude silhouette. Clearing her throat, she curiously investigated, "Is there a reason you insisted on leaving the door open?"

Samantha peered over her shoulder and could see the Commander's grey eyes glued onto her. Grinning at the welcomed attention, she remarked, "Why? Is it an issue? I can close the door if you like."

"No, it's alright," Shepard blurted, attempting to avert her gaze when she noticed the nude silhouette, "I did tell you to make yourself right at home."

"And I will," her accent teased. As the temperature in the water increased, the soothing effect of it drizzling down her skin made the young officer swoon. "Oooh... hot water and room to stretch. I could get lost in here. Mmm... Oh, it's like a week's worth of stress is washing off. And the timing is perfect. I was hoping to look nice for somebody," she cleverly hinted.

"Hot date lined up?"  
Now was her chance, "Hopefully more than just that. I play for keeps."  
"Sounds serious," the voice in the main room called out.

"That depends on whether she's interested," she returned, her heart skipping a beat as she hoped the Commander took notice.

Samantha waited to hear a response but all she received was silence. The pause continued to linger. She began questioning all the conversations and subtle hints she had with her commanding officer. Wondering if she was only taking into context the bits she wanted to believe were true.

_Maybe she didn't notice… maybe she wasn't interested in me to begin with… maybe this was all a big misunderstand– _

Before Traynor could finish her thought, she was interrupted by the warm embrace of Shelby's arms wrapping around her waist. Her velvety fingers cherished the bare skin of her subordinate's hips. Directing their bodies to meet, Shepard nuzzled the subdued officer's ear, rewarding her acceptance, "She's interested."

Hearing those words caused the Specialist to melt in the arms of her long awaited lover. Her heart fluttered with every caress the Commander presented her. She couldn't restraint the joyful grin curling onto her face. This was the moment she ached so long for.

Turning to face her companion, Samantha realized that Shepard was still in her uniform. The water patted loudly against her clothing, darkening the area they landed. She stated the obvious, "You're fully clothed."

Shelby's wicked smile dawned through, her eyes glowed hungrily. She guided the petite woman towards the back of the stall and leaned up against her torso. Closing the distance between them, the Commander brushed her nose along the curve of Samantha's jaw and inched forward to her ear. The warm breath leaving her lips teased, "Not for long."

Shepard cupped her hand under the nude woman's chin and directed her mouth to meet hers. Before another word could be spoken, she sealed their kiss. Fueling the desire building within, Samantha fully embraced their bond. The water dripping down their cheeks as they passionately played with each other's tongues.

Feeling her commanding officers hand grip onto her thigh and direct her leg to wrap around her waist, she heaved Shelby's hip against hers. Her fingers quickly tugged at the rim of her pants, fighting to undo their restraint. Aiding in her attempt, Shepard zipped out of her slacks and swiftly pulled off her shirt. Snapping away her brassiere and scooting out of her matching panties, all that remained were the Commander's bright red socks. Dismissing their removal, the two lustfully began exploring the new territories provided.

Samantha threw her head back as she lost all control when Shelby used her mouth to worship the body in front of her. The light nibbles and flickering of her tongue targeted the sensitive portions of Samantha's body. Her fingers intensified the burning reaction by seeking these highly pleasurable areas and furiously rubbed against them. The subdued officer's breathing quickened with each embrace, making it unbearable to wait any longer. Begging to reach her peak, Shepard slowed down and growled, "Not yet, I'll make you wait for it."

Pouting in a fit of repressed desire, "Damn you. Don't think this will prevent me from going easy on you later on."

"I wouldn't be so sure. I always get what I want."


	4. Chapter 4: Victories

Chapter 4 – Victories

"My word, Commander. It's almost as though you wanted to spare your pawns the indignity of living under my regime," Samantha flaunted her victory over her commanding officer. Wearing nothing more than her black lace panties and Shelby's formal uniform jacket, she sat back against the couch and crossed her arms. The jacket was barely latched on and revealed the mid-part of the tanned communication officer's bosom.  
Shepard stared angrily at the chessboard, dressed in her black brassiere and navy blue uniform pants. She replayed the game over and over in her head, trying to understand where she slipped. Still unsure, she admitted, "In real life, that tactic would have worked."  
"Well, in real life, one doesn't move on an eight-by-eight square grid."  
"You know what I mean. The pawns are infantry. A good infantry line, like the krogan, can take a charge like that," she gestured with her hands.  
"That reminds me of a joke: What's the difference between Commander Shepard and a krogan? One is an unstoppable juggernaut of head-butting destruction..."  
"...and the other doesn't have a smart-ass communications officer to keep her in line," Shelby interrupted with her gray eyes shooting a wicked glare.  
Knowing she poked fun at the tough marine, she teased, "Oh, that's even better than the number-of-testicles punch line."

The Commander shook her head, smirking, "So I was right."

"What do you mean?"

"You did want to join in on our verbal slandering," she recalled.

"Oh no, I could never…"

"I'm teasing you, Samantha."

"More like torturing me."

Her lips curled to the side, "Maybe just a little."

"You seem to take pleasure in tormenting me."

"Among other things," Shelby winked, leaning back in her chair and resting her feet on the edge of the table.

Traynor's attention was immediately directly to the red socks propped up on the table. "I must admit, you almost had me distracted with those brightly colored socks of yours. The way they flashed from underneath your table nearly cost me to lose a few pawns."

"Well, I wish I knew that little bit of information earlier! I would have used it against you."

"Then I would have pulled them off and tossed them aside."

"That's fine," she grinned, "I'll just put on another pair."

Curiously asking, "How many pairs of red socks do you own?"

"Every pair I have is red. Each and every single one of them, you can check for yourself in the top drawer over there," she motioned towards the night stand beside the bed.

"What? Why?"

"There are a few reasons, I guess. It all started back during the Skyllian Blitz. I met this one soldier who always wore a red shirt under his uniform. I could never understand why... so I asked him. He told me that whenever he got injured, the red shirt prevented him and his fellow squadmates from seeing the blood so they would keep fighting. Shortly after revealing this tidbit, a majority of use began wearing a red article of clothing... for me it was my socks. Whenever I was wounded in battle - which happened all the time back then - my boots had a tendency to pool up with blood. It was such a horrific sight to see, pulling off your boots and it was soaked… still dripping. My white socks had to be thrown away on a nightly basis since they were past redemption. It's amazing how much blood a human body can produce," the Commander shared, watching as the woman sitting in front of her became a little queasy, "All that changed when I switched over to red socks. The odd thing... everyone who started wearing red survived the war. I know it was sheer coincidence but because of this, I began calling them my lucky socks. Whenever I wear them, I know that I'll always come back."

"How do you know?"

Shepard curled up her hand into a ball and placed it over her heart, "I just know."

"Then you should never take those socks off," Samantha added.

"Is that an order?"

"No, I…" she was flustered, "I was only joking."

"Why? It sounded like a reasonable order to me."

"Good because I wasn't joking."

"I have every intention on coming back, especially now that I have you," she extended her hand, inviting the young officer over. Cheerfully taking her palm into hers, she guided Samantha to take a seat on her lap. When the tanned woman planted her laced behind on Shepard's thighs, the flap of the Commander's jacket fell to the side and revealed more of her bare bosom. Shelby attempted to conceal the red blushing to her face, clearing her throat as she stated, "I must admit… you look very charming in my jacket."

"You think so?" Samantha asked, noticing her commanding officer's mischievous gaze darting between her eyes and her chest. She unlatched the remaining hooks and pulled the side of the coat back, exposing every bit of her front torso.

Shepard inexplicably smirked at her subordinate. Her hands began wandering their way up the Specialist's delectable figure. Her fingertips ran lightly across her thighs and caused them to horripilate in their wake before they continued their journey upwards. Playfully tugging on the rim of her black panties, Shelby sunk her grip into Traynor's supportive waist and forcibly scooted her rear closer.

"That's more like it," the Commander softly muttered, directing her hands along the curvy frame sitting on her lap. Massaging the smooth skin under her nails, she worked her way around the welcoming bosom. Teasing her subtle breasts with a faint brush of her palm and watching the woman squirm in delight with every squeeze she granted.

When Shelby began moving her hand further upward, Samantha quickly changed her position and mounted the veteran marine. Pressing her anticipating chest against her black brassiere and eagerly waited for more.

Shepard's thumb pressed against the center of Samantha's chin, her fingers curled underneath and slightly tilted her victim's head away. Brushing her nose along the crevasse of her prey's neck, her grinning lips honing in on their destination, "I'm glad you didn't run back to the lab, Samantha."

"I'm glad I got this chance to be a part of the Normandy," her voice fluctuating with every caress being received from her lover's mouth. The soft ridges of her lips danced across her skin, gently nipping and carefully tasting the sensitive skin. Her breathing quickened with each sensual embrace, barely able to vocalize, "I'm quite happy… with where I am."

"I certainly hope so," the seductress whispered between her physical worship, her tongue stretching along the rim of Samantha's chin as she neared the anxiously gasping mouth of her tamed servant, "We don't know how much time we have left so we need to make every moment count."

"In that case… rematch?" the communications officer asked with her lips barely brushing against Shelby's, her eyes hinting how they should continue their arousing engagement on the Commander's bed.

"You can say that," she growled before locking their mouth's passionately together and sealing her victory.


	5. Chapter 5: Dark Rhythms

Chapter 5 – Dark Rhythms

"With all due respect, you've been working nonstop since we've left Earth," Samantha advised, expressing her concern towards the officer leaning idly against the edge of the Galaxy Map staring deeply into the datapad in her hand.

"I have a lot of lives depending on me," Shelby reminded as she browsed through the incoming reports. Shifting from one report to another, the bleak numbers continued to sink deeply into her psyche.

"I know. You remind all of us on a daily basis about how dire this is but you're exhausted and starting to get a bit… grumpy."

"_Grumpy_?" Shepard raised her eyebrow at the accusation, "I am not _grumpy_."

"All I'm saying is that you should take the evening off."

The Commander tucked the datapad under her arm and riposted, "Sounds vaguely like you're giving me an order, Traynor."

Feeling like she might have overstepped her boundaries, the mild mannered woman dodged behind the safety of her monitor and made it a point to avoid eye contact, "Not an order. Merely a polite suggestion from someone with a vested interest in your health... Commander."

Shelby stared quietly at her newfangled partner. She opened her mouth to say something but stopped before a word could be muttered. She took a deep breath and fought the fiery urge to recite her brash statement. Coming to the realization that the toll of the war was drastically affecting her physically and mentally… whether she wanted to admit it or not.

She strode towards her companion, with her mannerisms reflecting the desire for a peaceful outcome. She snuck behind Samantha and wrapped her arms around her waist, pulling her close. Shepard rested her chin atop her partner's shoulder and gently nuzzled against her ear. Traynor closed her eyes and embraced the warmth of her Commander's arms, whispering, "Does this mean you will you take my request to heart?"

Taking a moment to think it over, she finally agreed, "Yes. I suppose I am permitted to have a few hours to myself."

With that said, Shepard unwrapped herself from Samantha's body and disappeared into the elevator. Watching as her beloved superior retreated to her quarters, the Communication Specialist sighed in relief. She never expected to be so invested towards someone this quickly, especially with someone as important as the Commander. Their relationship was barely over a week old and she was already finding ways to involve herself in Shelby's daily structure. She knew being intimate with a highly decorated war hero wouldn't be easy and the presence of the Reapers would only make her commanding officer's involvement more crucial… yet Samantha sheepishly desired to spend more time with her loved one.

* * *

Samantha continued on with her daily duties, making it a point to hold any reports and calls from interrupting Shelby. She felt a sense of calm knowing her Commander was up in her quarters getting some well-deserved rest and didn't want anything to disturb her. As she was rolling through the incoming messages, she overheard the elevator door sliding open. Typically the noise did not distract her but there was an unusual sound pinging against the metal floor. She quickly turned around and fell backwards onto her console in disbelief.

Her pale skinned Commander was boldly standing in a short black cocktail dress with matching high heels. She had a beautiful silver necklace with a deep red gemstone that corresponded nicely with her ruby lips. What really made the look complete was her hairstyle. Shelby spiked it up into a Mohawk that even put Vega's to shame.

Samantha never expected to see her superior wear a dress. As uncharacteristic as it was, her heart went aflutter over how sensually appealing her Commander was. She could hardly contain herself. Her eyes were trying to focus on the blonde bombshell but kept bashfully darting away to prevent the red flushing to her cheeks. She was apprehensive about sharing how mesmerized she was by her partner's beauty.

"Something the matter, Traynor?" Shepard asked, catching her Communications Specialist taking in the sight in front of her.

"No, ma'am…" she stuttered, averting her gaze and trying her hardest to stare directly at the orange text glowing on her console, "I, uh, just thought you would still be resting."

"Well, I was," she continued to notice Samantha's eyes bolting to the side, "Do you have an issue with my hair?"

"Why would you say that?"

"You keep looking at me so I figure something must be putting you off. So it has to be my Mohawk."

"No, that's not it at all. I quite like what you did to your hair."

"Then what's the problem?"

"I never thought," Samantha was quickly becoming tongue tied, "I never expected to see you… it doesn't seem your style."

"Not my style?"

"No, that's not what I mean. It definitely fits you. I mean, it looks highly attractive on you."

Shelby put up her hand to stop the rambling soldier, "I understand what you're saying, Samantha. I know I usually don my Alliance blues and have a strict professional look but I am fully taking your suggestion to heart. I figure I would dust this dress off, spike my hair up, and ask you to join me."

Traynor felt completely off-guard, "Join you? Where?"

"I figured we could go relieve some stress at Purgatory."

"What kind of relief were you thinking of?"

"Drinking and dancing… but I wouldn't suggest doing them both at the same time," she chuckled, running her fingers through her Mohawk.

"This is such short notice."

"You know how I enjoy keeping you on your toes."

"Indeed, you mention that quite a bit."

"Well, is it working?"

"Severely so, you're doing a great job at," she paused, mesmerized by the faint twinkle glimmering in Shelby's eyes, "keeping me on my toes."

"So will you join me or am I going alone on this venture?"

"Of course I will go with you. Just give me a moment to dress accordingly."

"Twist my arm," the Commander bowed, using her hands to gesture towards the elevator.

* * *

The pink and blue light hues dashed against the open spaces of Purgatory. The multi-leveled club was rustling with bodies, dancing like a captivated soul to the beat of the bass. The energy of the music pumped through the speakers, mesmerizing the crowd. Summoning everyone to bend and twist to the rhythms echoing in the melody.

Wearing a red long-sleeved sweater dress and black leggings, Samantha did her best to coordinate her outfit to match her companion's. She could never wear anything as revealing as the Commander but wanted to look nice for their outing. As she waited on one of the lounge couches for Shelby to return with their drinks, she tried to remember the last time she went out clubbing… or dancing for that matter. She would have preferred staying in with a good glass of wine and playing a few rounds of chess but she couldn't deny Shepard's request. If this was her way to relieve stress, Samantha was going to do everything she could to be supportive.

"A glass of the finest asari wine available for the misses," Shelby came around the couch and handed the tall glass to her sweetheart before taking a seat beside her, "and a round of the Shepard Special for myself."

"They named a drink after you?"

"I come here so often that the bartender created this concoction. Everything else I was drinking was too weak for my tastes. With this one, three rounds and I'm out."

"What's in it?"

"No idea… but it seems as though James and I are the only ones able to stomach it. I've even seen some krogan get knocked out after one drink, although they were considered 'lightweights,'" she gloated, her grey eyes shimmered a golden hue when she heard her partner's giggle.

"Cheers," Traynor held her glass up to Shepard's and lightly tapped them together.

The Commander took a hearty sip of her strong spirit. As the warmth of the alcohol spread through her chest, she had a genuine smile curl unto her lips. She scooted closer to her companion and took her free hand into hers. Rubbing the palm with her thumb, she commented, "You look really stunning tonight, Samantha."

"Thank you," the shy Alliance soldier blushed.

"I know I said this before but I'm really glad you didn't return back to the lab. Otherwise I would be spending a very empty night alone in my cabin."

"But with your looks, your charm, you could have anybody."

"I could… but I don't want just anybody," Shelby finished her drink and set it on the table. As she stood up, she pulled gently on Samantha's hand, "Come dance with me."

"Dance? With you?" she asked with her eyes widening at the very thought of joining her on the dance floor.

"Yes, with me. Unless you want to dance with someone else here?"

"It's not that… I don't really know how to dance," she confessed.

"That's okay," Shepard smiled, "I don't either."

The Communications Specialist chuckled at her remark. Deciding it would be worth checking out how bad of a dancer she was, she took a deep breath and got up. Shelby escorted her paramour to an isolated corner and immediately began moving her body to the music. It wasn't long before she was flailing her arms up in the air and spinning in circles.

Samantha covered her eyes, ashamed to be seen near this atrocity. She only heard stories from the crew about Shepard's infamous shuffle… now she had the opportunity to see it first-hand. No matter how bad her moves were, Shelby didn't stop. There was a golden glow in her eyes that revealed how deeply she enjoyed her "dancing." It didn't matter what the other patrons thought, it didn't matter how embarrassing others would perceive it to be, she was doing this for herself and no one could tell her otherwise.

The rhythm of the song began slowing down and the melody shifted to something more hypnotic. The tantalizing trance track swept across the floor and altered everyone's dance style. Couples were joining together to share their enticing movements while lone individuals were left to express their sensuous motions in the dim lights.

Shepard matched her pace to the dark rhythms and worked her way behind Samantha. Placing her hands on her shoulders and sliding them down the length of her arms. She could feel Traynor's hair standing on end, her skin crawling in excitement. When her hands reached hers, she intertwined their fingers and guided their arms to cross over each other. Bringing their bodies closer, Shelby rested her chin atop her partner's shoulder and shifted their hips to grind to the music together.

The overwhelming embrace Traynor was experiencing from her commanding officer left her in a daze. She closed her eyes and allowed her body to follow the fluid movements. Consumed by the vocals in the song, she drowned out all of the patrons idly watching the decorated War Hero dance with her companion. Nothing was going to take this moment away from her.

As their hips swayed in sync, Shepard brushed her lips against Samantha's ear and whispered, "I've been doing a lot of thinking lately… and I want you to move into my quarters."

"Are you being serious, Commander?"

"I know we've only been together officially for eight days but right now isn't exactly the ideal time to take things slowly. The fights… the negotiations… this war will only be getting worse and I wouldn't mind having someone to come back to at the end of the day. Someone I can hold onto at night and fight for," she confided to her tan sweetheart, "and I want that to be you."

"I don't know what to say," surprised at the sudden request, "When do you want me to start moving my things in?"

"Tonight," she said nonchalantly.

"Tonight? I don't get a say in this matter?"

"You can say whatever you want…" her smile brushed up against her lover's cheek, "but my mind is already made up. You're moving in tonight."

"Fine," she gleefully chimed, excited for this new opportunity, "but on one condition."

Shepard chuckled, "I invited you to live with me only a minute ago and you're already giving me orders."

"It's not an order. Just hear me out… you'll like this one."

"Okay, permission to speak freely."

"My one condition is that you keep your hair spiked up like that more often."

"Granted," she nodded and sealed their agreement with a kiss on her partner's cheek.


End file.
